Hypoxic
by Lenarix Klinde
Summary: Jak/Keira.  When he's tired of leading, of being Haven's symbol of strength, Keira's there with rope, his scarlet scarf, and a promise to lift that burden from his shoulders, if just for a moment.  Sexual situations, important warnings inside.


_Naughty Dog lets me play with their characters as long as I clean them off before I give them back._

_Just a note about erotic asphyxiation-it's dangerous, guys. I went with what I could find with a Google search, but I couldn't find anything on aftercare regarding asphyxiation, and it's kind of awkward to go to the library and ask for a book on these sorts of things. I am NOT condoning you do these things IRL - in fact, I discourage it. If you insist on giving it a try, DO YOUR RESEARCH. I'm dead serious._

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><p>"Light too bright?" Keira asks, and keeps her eyes on Jak's wrists as she finishes tightening the knots.<p>

Jack chuckles a little, the sound a shiver of hot fingers on her spine. "It's not exactly Wasteland sun. I'll live."

Keira's eyes slide down his arms. His brow is furrowed, and the length of his body beneath her is all cocked gun and live grenade. Like he'll explode if a feather lands on his belly.

"Jak," she says, her smirk fading, "shut your eyes for me."

And he tries. The poor dear, she thinks, he really _does_ try. But it looks all wrong when he squeezes his eyelids and the rest of his body clenches, trying to hide the trembles in his bones.

"Jak," she says, leaning forward. She takes his face in her hands. "Relax for me."

"I-"

"Shh."

She kisses him, smooth and full, catches his tongue with her teeth. He shudders under her fingertips, all minor earthquakes beneath her fingertips, and she doesn't stop kissing and humming into his mouth before he goes slack, breathing a sigh into her mouth.

"That's it," she croons, pulling back. Her grin lights upon her face again as Jak's eyes flutter open, hazy, pupils expanding against dirt-smeared, half-fading light. "That's right, baby, let me take care of you."

Jak nods, delayed and lazy. Keira's fingers tighten on the rubber ball in her hands, forcing the tremors down into her belly as she slips it into Jak's loose-curled fingers. "Drop it if you need to," she whispers in his ear. "Do you understand?"

She doesn't move until he nods-still lazy, even slower now, and she smiles, easing back on her haunches.

She feels what's waiting for her beneath smooth, race-worn leather. Fireflies of heat flicker in her belly, soft and simmering. Jak makes a nice sound when she grinds down against it-wide-eyed, open-mouthed, choking on the lump in his throat, no doubt.

Keira's eyes race ahead of her trailing fingers, down to Jak's neck and the crimson scarf around it.

Lightning bugs and summer nights in Sandover. Keira's smile turns wicked at the edge, the sound of a knife cutting through red velvet. iDown, girl. Jak. Remember Jak./i

She bows her head and presses her smile's sharp edge to his collarbone, mouthing her way lower.

Things she's learned about Jak's body, the things that make him sigh and twitch and groan, flow to her mouth and fingertips and the places where their skin touches. Her teeth and tongue tease one of his nipples, and her fingertips seek out the smooth, pale plains across his skin.

She avoids the jagged lines and dots where his skin rises, dark-pink and thrashing with memories that make him stiff and distant in the worst kind of ways. She has memorized those places, for his sake-once was enough.

"Jak," she says, a breath and a giggle braided with her words. She shifts to her haunches, back arched. Keira grinds down, ithere/i, and Jak's eyes roll up, a shuddering sigh escaping his lips as his eyelids flutter, flutter, fall shut. His mouth shapes a silent plea, an almost word.

"Jak?"

His whine is a thread pulled tight. She leans forward, brow furrowed, and breathes into the shell of his ear. "That's not how you ask for something," she whispers, and her words are black lace curtains shifting in the midnight breeze. "I know you have a voice." She nips his ear, once, imagines his vision going thick with stars. "You are going to iuse it/i if you want something. Understood?"

Silence. Keira almost breathes a little louder because she can't stand the sound of her own heartbeat.

"iPlease/i."

Keira's throat catches on Jak's voice, thick and hoarse and needy. "Good," she breathes at him, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Okay, Jak. Okay. Because you asked so nicely."

Oh, how he _trembles_ when she slips up his body and away from him. She ignores how his cock strains against his pants, though her fingers itch to twitch her wrist, flick the button open and-deep breaths. This is for Jak. Not her.

She sits up instead, sating her fingerprints on Jak's scarf. "Eyes open," she says, and this time her voice sounds solid, both feet on the floor. One hand pulls the scarf's tail up a little. The other presses against the slipknot, pushing forward as she pulls the tail back. The knot tightens, tightens-her palm presses to the swell of his throat. Gentle at first.

Then firmer, until his breathing cuts off with a quiet hiccup of a noise-perhaps the sound of daylight dying beyond this little room.

Keira's eyes flick up, glancing at Jak's right hand. He clenches the ball, his lifeline, as his eyes widen and his mouth falls open.

"Remember when we were kids?" Keira asks, leaning forward, her lips brushing the edge of Jak's ear. "You were so quiet. _ Always_ so quiet."

His Adam's apple works against her palm-trying to swallow, probably. She kisses down the length of his ear, tip of her tongue darting out to lick where skin meets earlobe. "Just go back to those days, Jak," she whispers, grinding down against the bulge in his pants. He struggles against her, head tilted back, mouth open and wide as his eyes start going bloodshot at the edges. "Shh." She swipes fingertips under his jaw. "You're okay, you're safe. Don't think."

He nods once, small, working his mouth; the red starts to creep towards his irises. Her eyes dart up again to Jak's hand and fix there, even as she starts moving against him, too. Her skin slides hot and slick against his, and her breaths shorten against the lump in her throat. She swallows that lump down instead, shuts her eyes against Jak's blurring image and presses a kiss to his Adam's apple, just above her thumb.

"I love you," she mouths, as Jak stiffens, tenses-and then goes slack.

His first gulp of air gets sucked down along with a hoarse, rasping rattle, a prayer to the air he breathes. Keira tosses the scarf off the edge of the bed, forgotten, making quick work of his bonds as well. She pushes him onto his side, knees bent, arms curled out in front of him.

"Rest, Jak," she says. His eyelashes flutter against her palm.

"Keir..."

"Hush."

Keira holds him 'round the middle, squeezing, and Jak stops talking. Keira presses herself close, heartbeat to heartbeat, and lets the ceiling fan shed air on them in lazy pirouettes. "You were great," she whispers in his ear, "so brave for me."

He doesn't say a word, and Keira imagines his mind, his body, his lungs urging him to expand, contract, expand again.

She only looks away from him when he starts to snore, staring up at the ceiling. Shadows from the ceiling fan fill cracks in the plaster. Keira watches, watches, and shuts her eyes to think of what she'll say to Jak when he wakes back up.

She only means to blink, she really does, but when she opens her eyes again her bones seem filled with lead, and Jak's nose is in her neck, his fingertips sneaking down her hips. "Jak?" she asks, voice foamed with the state between sleep and waking.

He freezes, and she feels his lips smirking against her shoulder. "Morning," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the pulse beneath her jaw. "Or night, really." His voice still wobbles and rasps a little, and Keira reaches up to run her thumb over Jak's neck.

"Breathing okay?"

"Mmm."

"Let me see your eyes, Jak." She smiles when he snorts a little, burying his nose in the hollow of her throat, and picks up his tickling. "I mean it," she says, "head up." She tilts his chin so that his eyes look straight into hers. They're still a little red, as if scratched by dust in the corner of his eye-but they're fine.

Her eyes slide down to his throat, and she thumbs the purple bruise wound around his neck. "It was too tight," she sighs. "You should have told me-"

"Hey." Jak's hand shuts over hers, muffles her voice and the quivering tingle in her fingers. She looks up into Jak's face, silhouetted by light, and breathes deep and even. "Hey," he says again, licks his lips, "I know. I know what you're thinking and-please. Trust me, too."

Jak squeezes her hand, leaning a little closer. His breath is a warm watercolor rush over her lips as he presses her fingertips into the bruised band below his jaw. "You're the only person in this entire world I'll trust with this, Keira," he whispers.

Keira feels the tightness in her belly dissolve as Jak leans in, smearing his mouth over hers. Hands roam, their bodies made soft with the light above them. And when she pushes him onto his back, straddles him and kisses him breathless-he only laughs and opens his mouth wider, goes soft, surrenders as Keira does her best to smooth over Jak's edges that crack and strain beneath the need of Haven City's people.

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><p><em>Concrit is more than encouraged. Please-I insist.<em>

_Also, I feel like LJ has spoiled me in terms of just how kinky I'm allowed to get. ;_; *crosses fingers*_


End file.
